 | Sir Amadace and The Avowing of Arthur |  |
31
SIR AMADACE
I
Thenne the knyȝt and þe stuard fre,Þay casten þere houe hit best myȝte be
Bothe þe ferre and nere.
Þe stuard sayd, “Sir, ȝe awe wele more
Þenne ȝe may of ȝour londus rere
In faythe this seuyn ȝere.
Quoso may best, furste ȝe mun pray,
Abyde ȝo till anothir day.
And parte ȝour cowrte in sere;
And putte away full mony of ȝour men;
And hald butte one, quere ȝe hald ten,
Thaȝghe þay be neuyr so dere.”
32
II
Þenne Sir Amadace sayd, “I myȝte lung spareOr all þese godus qwitte ware,
And haue noȝte to spend;
Sithun duell here, quere I was borne,
Bothe in hething and in scorne—
And I am so wele kennit.
And men full fast wold ware me,
Þat of þayre godus hade bynne so fre,
Þat I haue hade in honde.
Or I schuld hold men in awe or threte,
Þat þay myȝte noȝte hor awne gud gete—
Thenne made I a full fowle ende.
III
“Butte anothir rede I wulle me toe,Wurche anothir way þen soe,
Bettur sayd soro þenne sene.
Butte, gode stuard, as þu art me lefe,
Lette neuyr mon wete my grete mischefe,
Butte hele hit vs betwene.
For seuyn ȝere wedsette my lond
To þe godus þat I am awand
Be quytte holly bidene.
For oute of þe cuntray I wille weynde,
Quil I haue gold, siluyr to spende,
And be owte of dette full clene.
IV
“Ȝette wille I furst, or I fare,Be wele more riall þen I was are,
Therfore ordan þu schall,
For I wulle gif full ryche giftus
Bothe to squiers and to knyȝtis;
To pore men dele a dole.
33
Þat full fayn wold hit were such toe,
Þat myȝte notte bete my bale.
So curtase a mon was neuyr non borne
That schuld scape withoute a scorne
Be iche mon had told his tale.”
V
Thanne Sir Amadase, as I ȝo say,Hase ordanut him opon [a] day
Of þe cuntray in a stowunde.
Ȝette he gafe ful riche giftus,
Bothe to squiers and to knyȝtis,
Stedus, haukes, and howundes.
Sethun afturward, as I ȝo say,
Hase ordanut him opon [a] day,
And furthe þenne conne he founde.
Be þat he toke his leue to wynde.
He lafte no more in his cofurs to spende,
But euyn xl. powunde.
VI
Þenne Sir Amadace, as I ȝo say,Rode furthe opon his way,
Als fast as euyr he myȝte.
Throowte a forest, by one cite,
Þer stode a chapell of stone and tre,
And þerinne se he a liȝte.
Commawundut his knaue for to fare,
To wete quat liȝte þat were thare—
“And tithing bring me ryȝte.”
The knaue did as his maister him bade,
Butte suche a stinke in þe chapell he hade,
Þat dwelle þer he ne myȝte.
34
VII
He stopput his nase with his hude;Nerre þe chapell he ȝode,
Anturs for to lere.
And as he loket in atte þe glasse,
To wete quat meruail þat þer wasse,
So see he stonde a bere.
Candils þer were brennyng toe,
A woman sittyng, and no moe.
Lord! carefull wasse hur chere.
Tithinges þere conne he non frayn,
Butte to his lord he wente agayn,
Told him quat he see thare.
VIII
And sayd, “Sir, atte ȝondur chapell haue I bene,A selcothe siȝte þer haue I sene,
My herte is heuy as lede.
Þer stondus a bere and canduls toe;
Þer sittus a woman, and no moe.
Lord! carefull is hur rede.
Suche a stinke as I had þare,
Sertis þenne had I neuyr are
Noquere in so stid.
For this palfray that I on ryde,
Þer myȝte I no lengur abide;
I traue I haue keȝte me dede.
IX
Þenne Sir Amace commawundut his squir to fare,To witte quat woman þat there ware,
“And tithinges bring þu me.”
As he loket in atte þe walle,
As þe knaue sayd, he fund withalle,
Him thoȝte hit grete pete.
35
That þere myȝte he no lengur duelle,
But sone agayn gose he.
He sayd, “Gud Lord, nowe with ȝour leue,
I pray ȝo take hit noȝte on greue,
For ȝe may notte wete for me.”
X
He sayd, “Sir, þer stondus a bere, and candils toe,A woman sittyng, and no moe.
Lord! carefull is hur chere.
Sore ho sikes and hondus wringus,
And euyr ho crius on heuyn kynges,
How lung ho schall be thare.
Ho says, Dere God, quat may þat be,
The grete soro þat ho opon him se,
Stingcand opon his bere.
Ho says, ho will notte leue him allone
Till ho fall dede downe to þe stone,
For his life was hur full dere.”
XI
Þenne Sir Amadace smote his palfray with is spur,And rode vnto þe chapell dur;
And hastele doune he liȝte.
As his menne sayd, so con him thinke
That he neuyr are hade such a stynke,
And inne thenne wente þat knyȝte.
He sayd, “Dame, God rest with þe.”
Ho sayd, “Sir, welcum most ȝe be.”
A[nd] salit him anon ryȝte.
He sayd, “Dame, quy sittus þu here
Kepand this dede cors opon þis bere,
Thus onyli vpon a nyȝte?”
36
XII
Ho sayd, “Sir, nedelonges most I sitte him by,Hifath, þer will him non butte I,
For he wasse my wedutte fere.”
Þenne Sir Amadace sayd, “Me likes full ill,
Ȝe ar bothe in plyit to spille,
He lise so lung on bere.
Quat a mon in his lyue wasse he?”
“Sir, a marchand of this cite,
Hade riche rentus to rere.
And euiryche ȝere thre hundrythe powndee
Of redy monay and of rowunde,
And for dette ȝette lise he here.”
XIII
Thenne Sir Amadace sayd, “For þe rode,On quat maner spendutte he his gud
Þat þusgate is away?”
“Sir, on gentilmen and officers,
On grete lordus, þat was his perus,
Wold giffe hom giftus gay.
Riche festus wold he make,
And pore men, for Goddus sake,
He fed hom euyriche day.
Quil he hade any gud to take,
He wernut no mon, for Goddus sake,
Þat wolnotte onus say nay.
XIV
“Ȝette he didde as a fole.He cladde mo men agaynus a ȝole
Thenne did a nobull knyȝte:
For his mete he wold not spare;
Burdes in þe halle were neuyr bare,
With clothes richeli diȝte.
37
He sayd, God send hit eueryche dele,
And sette my wurdus atte liȝte.
Bi thenne he toke so mycul opon his name,
Þat I dar notte telle ȝo, lord, for schame
Þe godus now þat he aȝte.
XV
“And þenne come dethe, wo hym be,And partutt my lord and me,
Lafte me in all þe care.
Quen my neȝteburs herd tell þat seke he lay,
Þay come to me, as þay best may,
Þair gud aschet þai þare.
All þat euyr was his and myne,
Hors and naute, shepe and squwyne,
Away þay drafe and bare.
My dowary to my lyue I sold,
And all þe peneys to hom told.
Lord! ȝette aȝte he wele mare.
XVI
“Quen I hade quytte all þat I myȝte gete,Ȝette aȝte he thritte powunde bi grete,
Holly till a stydde;
Till a marchand of this cite,
Was fer oute in anothir cuntre,
Come home quen he was dede.
And quenne he herd telle of my febull fare,
He come to me as breme as bare,
This corse þe erthe forbede,
And sayd, howundus schuld his bodi to draw,
Þen on þe fild his bonus tognaue.
Þus carefull is my rede.
38
XVII
“And this xvi. weke I haue setyn here,Kepand þis dede cors opon this bere,
With candils brennand bryȝte.
And so schall I euyrmore do,
Till dethe cum and take me to,
Bi Mary, most of myȝte!”
Þenne Sir Amadace franut hur þe marchandes name
That hade done hur all þat schame.
Ho told him anon ryȝte.
He sayd, “God þat is bote of all bale,
Dame, cumford þe, and so he schale;
And, dame, haue þu gud nyȝte.”
XVIII
Thenne Sir Amadace on his palfray lepe;Vnnethe me myȝte forgoe to wepe,
For his dedus him sore forthoȝte;
Sayd, “Ȝondur mon þat lise ȝondur chapell withinne,
He myȝte full wele be of my kynne,
For ryȝte so haue I wroȝte.”
Þenne he told his sometour quat þe marchand heȝt,
And sayd, “I will sowpe with him tonyȝte,
Be God þat me dere boȝte!
Go, loke þu diȝte oure soper syne,
Gode ryall metis and fyne,
And spicis þenne spare þu noȝte.”
XIX
And sone quen þe sometour herd,To þe marchandus howse he ferd,
And ordanut for that knyȝte.
Þenne Sir Amadace come riding thoe,
But in his hert was him full woe,
And hasteli dowun he liȝte.
39
And kest opon him othir wede,
With torches brennyng bryȝte.
He cummawundutte his squier for to goe,
To pray þe marchand and his wife allsoe
To soupe with him þat nyȝte.
XX
Þenne þe squier weyndut vpon his way,And to þe marchand conne he say;
His ernde told he thenne.
He squere, “Be Jhesu, Mare sone,
Þat lordus will hit schall be done,
Of cumford was þat man.
Þenne þayre soper was nere diȝte;
Burdes were houyn hee on liȝte;
[the] marchand [the] dees began.
Sir Amadace sate, and made gud chere,
Butte on þe dede cors þat lay on bere
fful mycull his thoȝte was on.
XXI
Sir Amadace sayd, “Tonyȝte as I come bi the strete,I see a siȝte I thenke on ȝete,
That sittus me nowe full sore.
In a chapell beside a way
A dede cors opon a bere lay,
A woman all mysfare.”
“Ȝe,” þe marchand sayd, “God gif him a sore grace,
And all suche waisters as he wasse,
For he sittus me nowe sare;
For he lise þere with my thritti powunde
Of redy monay and of rowunde,
Of hitte gete I neuyr more.”
40
XXII
Thenne Sir Amadace sayd, “Take þe till a bettur rede,Thenke þat Gode forgaue his dede,
Grete merit þu may haue.
Thenke how God ordant for the
Bettur grace þen euyr had he.
Lette þe cors go inne his graue.”
Þenne he squere, “Be Jhesu, Mare sun,
Þat body schall neuyr in the erthe come
My siluyr tille þat I haue;
Till ho be ded as wele as he,
Þat howundus schall, þat I may se,
On filde þayre bonus tognaue.”
XXIII
Quen Sir Amadace herd þat he hade squorne,He cald his stuard him beforne,
Of kyndenesse þat knyȝte con kithe,
And bede, “Go foche me thritti powunde
Of redy monay and of rowunde,
Hastely and belyue.”
Þe stuard thoȝte hit was agaynus skille,
Butte he most nede do his maistur wille—
Now listun and ȝe may lithe.
Þer Sir Amadace payd him thritti powund of monay fyne.
And thenne Sir Amadace asket to wyne,
And prayd þe marchand be blythe.
XXIV
Þen Sir Amadace asket, “Awe he þe any mare?”“Nay, Sir,” he sayd, “wele most ȝe fare.
For thus muche he me aȝte.”
Þenne Sir Amadace sayd, “As furthe as x. pounde will take
I schall lette do for his sake,
Querthroȝe he haue his riȝte.
41
Bringe his bodi to Cristun berunge,
That schall þu see wythe siȝte.
Go pray all þe religius of this cite
Tomorne þat þay wold dyne with me,
And loke þayre mete be dyȝte.”
XXV
Howe erly quen day con spring,Þen holli all þe bellus con ring
That in þe cite was.
Religius men eurichon
Toward this dede cors are þay gone
With mony a riche burias.
Thritty prustus þat day con sing,
And thenne Sir Amadace offurt a ring
Atte euyriche mas.
Quen þe seruise was all done,
He prayd hom to ete with him atte none,
Holli more and lasse.
XXVI
Þenne þe marchand wente tille one pillere;Mony a mon droȝhe him nere
To wete quat he wold say.
He sayd, “Sirs, there hase byn here
A ded cors opon a bere—
Ȝe wotte querfore hit lay.
And hase comun a full riall knyȝte,
Of all þe godes þe cors me heȝte
Hase made me redi pay.
Vnto his cofurs he hase sente,
And geuyn x. powunde to his termente,
Wythe riche ringus today.
42
XXVII
“Hit is on his nome þat I say,He prays ȝo holly to mete today,
All þat þer bene here.”
Þay did as þe marchand bade;
Mete and drinke ynuȝhe þay hade,
With licius drinke and clere.
And Sir Amadace wold noȝte sitte downe,
Butte to serue þe pore folke he was full bowne,
For þay lay his hert nere.
And quen þay hade etun withinne þat halle,
Þenne Sir Amadace toke leue atte all,
Vnsemand with full glad chere.
XXVIII
Quen Sir Amadace hade etun,To sadull his horse was noȝte forȝetun,
Þay broȝte hym his palfray.
Thenne his sometour mon before was dyȝte,
Þer as that lord schuld leng all nyȝte
And hade nothing to pay.
Quat wundur were hit thaȝhe him were wo
Quen all his godus were spendutte him fro,
Þe sothe gif I schuld say?
Þenne Sir Amadace kidde he was gentilman bornne,
He come þe grattust maystur beforne,
Tok leue, and wente his way.
XXIX
Qwen he was gone on this kin wise,Thenne iche mon sayd þayre deuise,
Quen he was passutte þe ȝate.
Sum sayd, “Þis gud full liȝteli he wan,
Þat thusgate spendutte hit on this man,
So liȝtely lete hit scape.”
43
Þat hade a peny him biforne,”
That knew full litull his state.
Lo, how þay demun þe gentill knyȝte,
Quen he hade spendut all þat he myȝte.
Butte þe trauthe full litull þay wote.
Quen he come sex mile þe cite fro,
A crosse partut þe way atoe.
Thenne speke Sir Amadace:
To his stuard he sayd full rathe,
His sometour and his palfray mon bothe,
And all þer euyr was,
Sayd, “Gode sirs, take noȝte on greue,
For ȝe most noue take ȝour leue,
For ȝoureseluun knauyn þe cace;
For I may lede no mon in londe,
Butte I hade gold and siluyr to spend,
Neuyr no quere in no place.”
A crosse partut þe way atoe.
Thenne speke Sir Amadace:
To his stuard he sayd full rathe,
His sometour and his palfray mon bothe,
And all þer euyr was,
Sayd, “Gode sirs, take noȝte on greue,
For ȝe most noue take ȝour leue,
For ȝoureseluun knauyn þe cace;
For I may lede no mon in londe,
Butte I hade gold and siluyr to spend,
Neuyr no quere in no place.”
XXX
Now the hardust hertut men þat there ware,For to wepe þai myȝt notte spare
Quen þay herd him say so.
He sayd, “Gode sirs, haue ȝe no care,
For ȝe mone haue maysturs euyrqware,
As wele wurthi ȝe ar soe.
Ȝette God may me sende of his sele,
Þat I may keuyr of this full wele,
And cum owte of this wo.
A mery mon ȝette may ȝe se me,
And be full dere welcum to me,
Bothe ȝe and mony moe.”
[Sir Amadas seyd in þat stonde:
“Þo warst hors is worþe ten pownde
Of hom all þat here gon.
Sqwyar, yomon, and knave,
Ylke mon his owne schall have
Þat he syttes apon.
Sadyll, brydyll, and oder geyre,
Fowre so gud þoffe hit were,
J woch hit save bi Sen Jon.
God mey make yo full gud men.
þryst of hevon Y yo beken!”
Þei weped and partyd ylke on.]
“Þo warst hors is worþe ten pownde
Of hom all þat here gon.
44
Ylke mon his owne schall have
Þat he syttes apon.
Sadyll, brydyll, and oder geyre,
Fowre so gud þoffe hit were,
J woch hit save bi Sen Jon.
God mey make yo full gud men.
þryst of hevon Y yo beken!”
Þei weped and partyd ylke on.]
XXXI
Quen all his men was partutte him fro,Þe knyȝte lafte still in all þe woe,
Bi himseluun allone.
Throȝhe þe forest his way lay riȝte;
Of his palfray doune he liȝte,
Mournand and made grete mone.
Quen he thoȝte on his londus brode,
His castels hee, his townus made,
Þat were away euyrichon,
That he had sette, and layd to wedde,
And was owte of the cuntray for pourte fledde.
Thenne þe knyȝte wexe will of wone.
XXXII
Thenne bespeke Sir Amadace,“A mon that litul gode hase,
Men sittus ryȝte noȝte him bye;
For I hade thre hundrythe powunde of rente,
I spendut two in þat entente.
Of such forloke was I.
Euyr quyll I suche housold hold,
For a grete lord was I tellut,
Much holdun vppe thareby.
Nowe may wise men sitte atte home,
Quen folus may walke full wille of wone,
And, Christ wotte, so may hi.”
45
XXXIII
He sayd, “Jhesu, as þu deet on þe rode,And for me sched þi precius blode,
And all þis word þu wanne;
Þu lette me neuyr come in þat syȝte,
Þer I haue bene knauen for a knyȝte,
Butte if I may avoue his thanne.
And gif me grace to somun all þo
That wilsumly are wente me fro,
And all þat me gode ons hase done;
Or ellus, Lord, I aske þe rede,
Hastely þat I were dede,
Lord, wele were me thanne.
XXXIV
“For all for wonting of my witte,Fowle of the lond am I putte,
Of my frindes I haue made foes;
For kyndenes of my gud wille,
I am in poynte myselfe to spille;”
Thus flote Syr Amadace.
He sayd, “Jhesu, as þu deut on tre,
Summe of þi sokur send þu me,
Spedely in this place!
For summe of thi sokur and þu me send,
And ȝette I schuld ful gladely spende
On all þat mestur hase.”
XXXV
Now thro þe forest as he ferd,He wende þat no mon hade him herd,
For he seȝhe no mon in siȝte.
So come a mon ryding him bye,
And speke on him fulle hastely,
Þerof he was afryȝte.
46
Hade consciens of a knyȝte.
Now thoȝhe Sir Amadace wasse in mournyng broȝte,
His curtase forȝete he noȝte,
He saylut him anon ryȝte.
XXXVI
Quod þe quite knyȝte, “Quat mon is this,That all þis mowrnyng makes thus
With so simpull chere?”
Þenne Sir Amadace sayd, “Nay!”
Þe quite knyȝte bede “do way,
For þat quile haue I bene here.
Thowe schild noȝte mowrne no suche wise,
For God may bothe mon falle and rise,
For his helpe is euyrmore nere.
For gud his butte a lante lone,
Sumtyme men [haue] hit, sumtyme none,
Þu hast full mony a pere.
XXXVII
“Now thenke on him, þat deut on rode.Þat for vs sched his precius blode,
For þe and monkynd all.
For a mon that geuees him to god thewis,
Authir to gentilmen or to schrewis,
On summe side will hit fall.
A mon that hase all way bynne kynde,
Sum curtas mon ȝette may he fynde,
That mekille may stonde in stalle;
Repente þe noȝte þat þu hase done,
For he þat schope bothe sunne and mone,
Full wele may pay for alle.”
Milke quyte was his stede,
47
XXXVIII
Quod þe quite knyȝte, “Wold þu luffe him aure all thingThat wold þe owte of thi mournyng bringe,
And keuyr þe owte of kare?
For here beside duellus a riall king,
And hase a doȝtur fayre and ȝinge,
He luffis nothing mare.
And þu art one of þe semelist knyȝte
Þat euyr ȝette I see with syȝte,
That any armes bare.
Þat mun no mon hur wedde ne weld,
Butte he þat first is inne þe fild,
And best thenne justus thare.
XXXIX
“And þu schalt cum thedur als gayAls any erliche mon may,
Of þi sute schall be non;
Þu schall haue for þi giftus geuand,
Grete lordus to þi honde,
And like þu spare riȝte none.
Þu say þe menne þat come with the,
Þat þay were drounet on þe see,
With wild waturs slone.
Loke þat þu be large of feyce,
Tille þu haue wonon gode congrece,
And I schall þay ichone.”
XL
He sayd, “Þat þu be fre of wage,And I schall pay for þi costage,
x. thowsand gif þu ladde.
Þer schall þu wynne full mekille honowre,
ffild and frithe, towne and towre,
Þat lady schall þu wedde.
48
Qwen þu hase come þi frindus to see,
In stid quere þu art stadde.
Butte a forwart make I with the or þat þu goe,
That euyn to part betwene vs toe
Þe godus þu has wonun and spedde.”
XLI
Þenne bespeke Sir Amadace,“And þu haue myȝte thruȝe Goddus grace
So to cumford to me,
Þu schalt fynde me true and lele
And euyn, lord, for to dele
Bettwix þe and me.”
“Fare wele,” he sayd, “Sir Amadace!
And þu schall wurche thruȝe Goddus grace,
And hit schall be with the.”
Sir Amadace sayd, “Haue gode day,
And þu schall fynde me, and I may,
Als true as any mon may be.”
XLII
Now als Sir Amadace welke bi þe se sonde,Þe broken schippus he þer fonde—
Hit were meruayl to say.
He fond wrekun amung þe stones
Knyȝtes in meneuere for þe nones,
Stedes quite and gray,
With all kynne maner of richas
Þat any mon myȝte deuise
Castun vppe with waturs lay;
Kistes and cofurs bothe þer stode,
Was fulle of gold precius and gode,
No mon bare noȝte away.
49
XLIII
Þenne Sir Amadace he him cladde,And þat was in a gold webbe,
A bettur myȝte none be.
And þe stede þat he on rode,
Wasse þe best þat euyr mon hade
In iusting for to see.
Þer he wanne full mecul honoure,
Fild and frithe, toune and towre,
Castell and riche cite.
Aure þat gud he houet full ryȝte.
That see the king and his doȝtur bryȝte,
Þe iusting furthe schild be.
XLIV
Þe kinge sayd to his doȝtur bryȝte,“Lo, ȝond houes a riall knyȝte!”
A messyngere he ches,
His aune squier, and knyȝtes thre,
And bede, “Go loke quat ȝone may be,
And telle me quo hit is.
And his gud hitte schall be tente
Holly to his cummawundemente,
Certan withowtun lesse.
Go we to his comyng all togethir,
And say þat he is welcum hethir,
And he be comun o pese.”
XLV
As þe messingerus welke bi þe see sonde,Þay toke Sir Amadace bi þe quite honde,
And tithinges conne him fraynne:
And sayd, “Oure lord, þe king, hase send vs hethir
To wete ȝoure comyng all togethir,
And ȝe wold vs sayn.
50
Holly atte ȝoure commawundemente,
Sertan is noȝte to layne.
Quatseuer ȝe wille with þe kinges men do,
Ȝo thar butte commawunde hom þerto,
And haue seruandis full bayne.”
XLVI
And Sir Amadace sayd, “I wasse a prince of mekil pride,And here I hade thoȝte to ryde,
Forsothe atte this iournay.
I was vetaylet with wyne and flowre,
Hors, stedus, and armoure,
Knyȝtus of gode aray.
Stithe stormes me oredrofe,
Mi nobull schippe hit all torofe,
Þo sothe ȝoureseluun may say.
To spend I haue enuȝhe plente,
Butte all þe men þat come with me,
Forsothe þai bynne away.”
XLVII
Þen Sir Amadace, þat wasse so stithe on stede,To þe castell ȝates þay conne him lede,
And told þe king all þe cace.
Þe king sayd, “Þu art welcum here,
I rede þe be full gud chere,
Thonke Jhesu of his grace.
Seche a storme as þu was inne,
Þat þu myȝte any socur wynne,
A full fayre happe hit wase.
I see neuyr man þat sete in sete,
So muche of my lufue myȝte gete
As þu þiseluun hase.”
51
XLVIII
Thenne þe king for Sir Amadace sakeA riall cri thenne gerutte he make
Throoute in þat cite.
To all þat þer wold seruyse haue,
Knyȝte, squiere, ȝomon and knaue,
Iche mon in þayre degree,
Þat wold duelle with Sir Amadace,
Hade lost his men in a cace,
And drownet hom on þe se.
He wold gif hom toe so muche, or ellus more,
As any lord wold euyr or qware,
And þay wold with him be.
XLIX
Quen gentilmen herd þat cry,Þay come to him full hastely,
With him for to be.
Be þen þe iusting wasse alle cryed,
There was no lord þer besyde
Had halfe as mony men os he.
Þer he wanne so mycull honoure,
Fild and frithe, towne and toure,
Castell and riche cite;
A hundrithe sedis he wan and moe,
And gaue þe king þe ton halue of thoe,
Butte þer othir til his felo keput he.
L
Quen þe iusting was all done,To vnarme hom pay wente anone,
Hastely and belyue,
Þen sayd þe king anon ryȝte,
And bede, “Gromersy, gentull knyȝte!”
Ofte and fele sithe.
52
Vnlasutte þe knyȝte, to mete þay wente,
All were þay gladde and blithe.
Quen aythir of othir hade a siȝte,
Suche a lufue betuene hom liȝte,
Þat partut neuyr þayre lyue.
LI
Quen þay hade etun, I vnderstonde,Þe king toke Sir Amadace bi þe quite honde,
And to him conne he say:
“Sir,” he sayd, “withoutun lesse,
I haue a doȝtur þat my nayre ho isse.
And ho be to ȝaure pay,
And ȝe be a mon þat will wedde a wife,
I vouche hur safe, by my life,
On ȝo þat fayre may.
Here a gifte schall I ȝo gife,
Halfe my kyndome quiles I life,
Take all aftur my daye.”
[“Gramarcy,” seyd Sir Amadas,
And þonkyd þo kyng of þat grace,
Of his gyfftes gudde.
Sone after, as Y yow sey,
To the kyrke yode þei
To wedde þat frely fode.
Þer was gold gyffon in þat stonde,
And plenty of syluer, many a ponde,
Be þe way as þei yode.
And after in hall þei satte all,
Þo lordes and þo lades small
Þat comon wer of gentyll kyn.]
And þonkyd þo kyng of þat grace,
Of his gyfftes gudde.
Sone after, as Y yow sey,
To the kyrke yode þei
To wedde þat frely fode.
Þer was gold gyffon in þat stonde,
And plenty of syluer, many a ponde,
Be þe way as þei yode.
And after in hall þei satte all,
Þo lordes and þo lades small
Þat comon wer of gentyll kyn.]
LII
Þus is Sir Amadace keuyrt of his wo,Þat God leue grace, þat we were so!
53
Þer weddut he þat lady briȝte,
Þe maungery last a faurtenyȝte,
With schaftes for to schake.
Othir halfe ȝere þay lifd in gomun,
A fayre knaue child hade þay somun,
Grete myrthes con þay make.
Listuns now, lordinges, of anters grete,
Quyll on a day before þe mete
Þis felau come to þe ȝate.
LIII
He come in als gay gere,Ryȝte as he an angell were,
Cladde he was in quite.
Vnto þe porter speke he thoe,
Sayd, “To þi lord myn ernde þu go,
Hasteli and alstite.
And if he frayne oȝte aftur me,
For quethun I come, or quat cuntre,
Say him my sute is quite.
And say we haue togethir bene,
I hope full wele he haue me sene,
He wille hitte neuyr denyte.”
LIV
Þenne þe porter wente into þe halle,Alsone his lord he metes withalle,
He sailles him as he conne:
Sayd, “Lord, here is comun þe fayrist knyȝte
That euyr ȝette I see with syȝte,
Sethen I was market mon.
Milke quite is his stede,
And so is all his oþer wede,
That he has opon.
54
I hope full well ȝe haue him sene,
Butte with him is comun no mon.”
LV
“Is he comun,” he sayd, “my nowun true fere?To me is he bothe lefe and dere,
So aght him wele to be.
Butte, all my men, I ȝo commawunde,
To serue him wele to fote and honde,
Ryȝte as ȝe wold do me.”
Þen Sir Amadace aȝaynus him wente,
And allso did þat ladi gente,
Þat was so bryȝte of ble.
And did wele þat hur aghte to do,
All þat hur lord lufd wurschipput ho,
All suche wemen wele myȝte be.
LVI
Quo schuld his stede to stabulle haue?Knyȝte, squier, ȝomon, ne knaue,
Nauthir with him be broȝte.
Thenne Sir Amadace wold haue takyun his stede,
And to þe halle himseluun lede,
Butte, so wold he noȝte.
He sayd, “Sertan, þe sothe to telle,
I will nauthir ete, drinke, no duelle,
Be God, þat me dere boȝte.
Butte take and dele hit euun in toe,
Gif me my parte, and lette me goe,
Gif I be wurthi oȝte.”
LVII
Thenne spoke Sir Amadace so fre,“For Goddus luffe, lette suche wurdus be!
Þay greuun my herte full sore.
55
Owre rich londus dele and diȝte,
Þay liun so wide quare.
Butte lette vs leng togethir here,
Riȝte as we brethir were,
As all þi none hit ware.
And othir gates noȝte part will wee,
Butte atte þi will, sir, þu hit spare!”
LVIII
He sayd, “Broke wele þi londus brode,Þi castels hee, þi townus made,
Of hom kepe I riȝte none;
Allso þi wuddus, þi waturs clere,
Þi frithis, þi forestus, fer and nere,
Þi ringus with riche stone,
Allso þi siluyr, þi gold rede,
For hit may stonde me in no stidde,
I squere, bi Sayn John!
But, be my faythe, withoutun stryue,
Half þi child, and halfe þi wyue,
And þay schall with me gone.”
LIX
“Alas!” sayd Sir Amadace þan,“Þat euyr I this woman wan,
Or any wordes gode.
For his life, þat deet on tre,
Quatseuer ȝe will, do with me,
For him þat deet on rode.
Ȝe, take all þat euyr I haue
Wythe thi, þat ȝe hur life saue.”
Þenne þe knyȝte wele vndurstode,
And squere, “Be God, þat me dere boȝte,
Othir of þi thinge þen kepe I noȝte,
Off all þi wordes gode!
56
LX
Butte thenke on þi couenand þat þu madeIn þe wode, quen þu mestur hade,
How fayre þu hettus me þare!”
Sir Amadace sayd, “I wotte, hit was soe,
But my lady for to sloe,
Me thinke grete synne hit ware.”
Then þe lady vndurstode anon,
Þe wurd þat was betwene hom,
And greuyt hur neuyr þe more.
Þen ladi sayd, “For his luffe þet deut on tre,
Loke ȝoure couandus holdun be,
Goddes forbotte ȝe me spare!”
LXI
Þenne bespeke þat ladi briȝte,Sayd, “Ye schall him hold þat ȝe haue hiȝte,
Be God, and Sayn Driȝtine!
For his lufe þat deet on tre,
Loke ȝaure couandus holdun be,
Ȝore forward was full fyne.
Sithun Crist will þat hit be so,
Take and parte me euun in toe,
Þu wan me and I am thine.
Goddus forbotte þat ȝe hade wyuut,
Þat I schuld ȝo a lure makette,
Ȝore wurschip in londe to tyne!”
LXII
Still ho stode, withoutun lette,Nawthir changet chere, ne grette,
Þat lady myld and dere.
Bede, “Foche me my ȝung sun me beforne,
For he was of my bodi borne,
And lay my herte full nere.”
57
“Quethur of hom luffus þu mare?”
He sayd, “My wife, so dere!”
“Sithun þu luffus hur þe more
Þu schalt parte hur euyn before,
Hur quite sidus in sere.”
LXIII
Þenne quen Sir Amadace seeÞat no bettur hitte myȝte bee,
He ferd as ho were wode.
Þenne all þe mene in þat halle,
Doune on squonyng þer con þay falle,
Before þayre lord þat stode.
Þe burd was broȝte þat schuld hur on dele;
Ho kissute hur lord sithis fele,
And sithun þerto ho ȝode.
Ho layd hur downe mekely enuȝhe,
A cloth þen aure hur enyn þay droȝhe;
Þat lady was myld of mode.
LXIV
Þenne þe quite knyȝte, “I will do þe no vnskill,Þu schalt dele hit atte þi wille,
Þe godus þat here now is.”
Þenne speke Sir Amadace so fre,
Sayd, “Atte ȝour wille, lord, all schall be,
And so I hope hit is.”
Þen Sir Amadace a squrd vppehente,
To strike þe ladi was his entente,
And thenne þe quite knyȝte be[de] “sese!”
He toke vppe þe ladi, and þe litull knaue,
And to Sir Amadace þer he hom gaue,
And sayd, “Now is tyme of pees!”
58
LXV
He sayd, “I con notte wite þe gif þu were toe,Suche a ladi for to slo,
Þi wurschip þus wold saue.
Ȝette I was largely as gladde,
Quen þu gafe all þat euyr þu hade,
My bones for to graue.
In a chapell quere I lay to howundus mete,
Þu payut furst thritty powund be grete,
Sethun all þat þu myȝtus haue.
Þer I besoȝte God schuld keuyr þe of þi care,
Þat for me hade made þe so bare,
Mi wurschip in lond to saue.”
LXVI
“Fare wele now,” he sayd, “mynne awne true fere!For my lenging is no lengur her,
With tunge sum I þe telle.
Butte loke þu lufe þis lady as þi lyue,
Þat þus mekely, withouten stryue,
Þi forwardus wold fulfille.”
Þenne he wente oute of þat towne,
He glode away as dew in towne,
And þay abode þer stille.
Þay knelutte downe opon þayre kne,
And thonket God and Mary fre,
And so þay hade gud skille.
LXVII
Þenne Sir Amadace and his wiue,With joy and blis þay ladde þayre liue,
Vnto þayre ending daye.
Þer is ladis now in lond full foe
Þat wold haue seruut hor lord soe,
Butte sum wold haue sayd nay.
59
And his modur, Mary fre,
Þis dar I sauely say:
Gif hom sumtyme like full ille,
Ȝette God will graunte hom all hor wille,
Tille heuyn þe redy waye.
LXVIII
Then Sir Amadace send his messingerus,All þe londus ferre and nere,
Vnto his awne cuntre.
Till all þat euyr his lond withheld,
ffrithe or forest, towne of filde,
With tresur owte boȝte he.
His stuard and othir, þat with him were,
He send aftur hom, as ȝe may here,
And gafe hom gold and fee.
And þay þer with him for to leng,
Euyrmore till þayre lyuus ende,
With myrthe and solempnite.
LXIX
Þenne sone aftur þe kinge deet, atte Goddus wille,And þay abode þare stille.
As ȝe schall vndurstond.
Þenne was he lord of toure and towne,
And all þay comun to his somoune,
All þe grete lordus of the londe.
Þenne Sir Amadace, as I ȝo say,
Was crownette kinge opon a day,
Wyth gold so clure schinand.
Jhesu Criste in Trinite,
Blesse and glade þis cumpany,
And ore vs halde his hande!
ffinis de Sir Amadace
60
THE AVOWING OF ARTHUR
I
He þat made vs on þe mulde,And fair fourmet þe folde,
Atte his will as he wold;
The see and the sande;
Giffe hom joy þat will here
Of duȝti men, and of dere,
Of haldurs, þat before vs were,
Þat lifd in this londe.
One was Arther the kinge.
Withowtun any letting,
With him was mony lordinge
Hardi of honde;
Wite and war ofte þay were,
Bold vndur banere,
And wiȝte weppuns wold were,
And stifly wold stond.
II
Þis is no fantum, ne no fabull;Ȝe wote wele of þe rowuntabull
Of prest men and priueabull,
Was holdun in prise.
Cheuetan of chiualry,
Kyndenesse of curtesy,
Hunting full warly,
As wayt men and wise,
To þe forest þa[y] fare,
To hunte atte buk and atte bare,
To þe herte, and to þe hare,
Þat bredus in þe rise.
61
Þe hunter cummys on a day,
Sayd, “Sir, þer walkes in my way,
A well grim gryse!
III
He is a balefull bare,Secheon segh I neuyr are.
He hase wroȝte me mycull care,
And hurte of my howundes;
Slayn hom downe slely,
With feȝting full furcely.
Wasse þer none so hardi
Durste bide in his bandus.
On him spild I my spere,
And mycull of my nothir gere;
Þer mone no dintus him dere,
Ne wurche him no wowundes.
He is masly made,
All of fellus þat he bade,
Þer is no bulle so brade,
That in frithe foundes.
IV
He is heȝer þenne a horse,That vncumly corse;
In fayth, him faylis no force
Quen þat he schalle feȝte.
And þerto, blake as a bere,
Feye folke will be fere.
Þer may no dyntus him dere,
Ne him to dethe diȝte.
Quen he quettus his tusshes,
Thenne he betus on þe busshes;
All he riues and he russhes,
Þat þe rote is vnryȝte.
62
Quen he castus vppe his stuffe;
Quo durst abide him a buffe,
Iwisse he were wiȝte.”
V
He sais, “In Ingulwode is hee.”Þe toþer biddus, “Lette him bee;
We schall that satnace see,
Giffe þat he be þare.”
Þe king callut on knyȝtis thre;
Himseluun wold þe fuyrthe be.
He sayd, “Þere schalle no mo mene
Wynde to þe bore.”
Bothe Kay and Sir Gauan,
And Bowdewynne of Bretan,
Þe hunter and þe howundus squayn,
Hase ȝarket hom ȝare;
Þe kinge hase armut him in hie,
And þo thre biurnes him bie,
Now ar þay fawre all redie,
And furthe conne þay fare.
VI
Vnto þe forest þay weynde,Þat was hardy and heynde;
Þe hunter atte þe northe ende
His bugull con he blaw;
Vncoupult kenettis as he couthe;
Witturly þay soȝte þe southe,
Raches with opon mouthe,
Rennyng on a raw,
Funde fute of þe bore,
ffaste folutte to him thore
Quen þat he herd, he hade care;
To þe denne conne he draw.
63
With feȝting full fuyrsly;
But witte ȝe, sirs, witturly,
He stode butte litull awe.
VII
Þay held him fast in his hold;He brittunt bercelettus bold,
Bothe þe ȝunge and þe old,
And raste hom þe rest;
Þe raches comun rengnyng him by,
And bayet him full boldely,
Butte þer was non so hardy
Durste on þe fynde fast.
Þenne þe hunter sayd, “Lo him þare!
Ȝaw þar such him no mare;
Now may ȝe sone to him fare;
Lette see quo dose beste.
Ȝaw þar suche him neuyr more,
Butte sette my hed opon a store,
Butte giffe he flaey ȝo all fawre,
Þat griseliche geste!”
VIII
Þenne þe hunter turnes home agayn;Þe king callut on Sir Gauan,
On Bawdewin of Bretan,
And on kene Kay;
He sayd, “Sirs, in ȝour cumpany
Myne avow make I,
Were he neuyr so hardy,
Ȝone satenas to say;
To brittun him, and downe bringe,
Withoute any helpinge—
And I may haue my leuynge—
Hentill tomorne atte day.
64
To do as I haue done nowe,
Ichone make ȝour avowe.”
Gladdely grawuntutte þay.
IX
Þen vnsquarut Gauan,And sayd godely agayn,
“I avowe to Tarnewathelan,
To wake hit all nyȝte.”
“And I avow,” sayd Kaye,
“To ride þis forest or daye;
Quoso wernes me þe waye,
Hym to dethe diȝte!”
Quod Baudewyn, “To stynte owre strife,
I avow, bi my life,
Neuyr to be jelus of my wife,
Ne of no birde bryȝte;
Nere werne nomon my mete,
Quen I gode may gete,
Ne drede my dethe for no threte,
Nauthir of king ner knyȝte.”
X
Butte now þay haue þayre vowes made,Þay buskutte hom, and furthe rade,
To hold þat þay heȝte hade,
Ichone sere way.
The king turnus to þe bore,
Gauan, with[out] any more,
To þe tarne con he fore,
To wake hit today.
Þenne Kay, as I conne roune,
He rode þe forest vppe and downe.
Boudewynne turnes to toune,
Sum þat his gate lay;
65
Butte carpe we now of þer othir thre,
How þay preuyd hor wedde fee,
Þo sothe for to say.
XI
Furst to carpe of oure kinge—Hit is a kyndeliche thinge—
Atte his begynnyng
Howe he dedde his dede.
Till his houndus con he hold;
The bore with his brode schilde,
Folut hom fast in þe filde,
And spillutte on hom gode spede.
Þen þe kinge con crye,
And carputte of venerie,
To make his howundus hardi;
Houut on a stede;
Als sone as he come þare,
Aȝaynus him rebowndet þe bare;
He se neuyr no syȝte are
So sore gerutte him to drede.
XII
He hade drede and doute,Of him þat was stirrun and stowte;
He began to romy and rowte,
And gapes and gones;
Men myȝte noȝte his cowche kenne
For howundes and for slayn men
Þat he hade draun to his denne
And brittunt alle to bonus.
Þenne his tusshes con he quette,
Opon þe kinge for to sette;
He liftis vppe, withoutun lette,
Stokkes and stonis.
66
He ruskes vppe mony a rote,
With tusshes of iij. fote,
So grisly he gronus!
XIII
Þenne þe kinge spanos his spere,Opon þat bore for to bere;
Þer may no dyntus him dere,
So sekir was his schilde.
Þe grete schafte þat was longe,
All to spildurs hit spronge;
Þe gode stede þat was stronge,
Was fallun in þe filde.
As þe bore had mente,
He gaue þe king suche a dinte,
Or he myȝte his bridull hente,
Þat he myȝte euyr hit fele.
His stede was stonet, starkeded.
He sturd neuyr owte of þat sted;
To Jhesu abone he bede
Fro wothes hym weylde.
XIV
Þenne þe king in his sadul sete,And wiȝtely wan on his fete;
He prays to Sayn Margarete,
Fro wathes him ware.
Did as a duȝty knyȝte,
Brayd oute a brand bryȝte,
And heue his schild opon hiȝte,
For spild was his spere.
Sethun he buskette him ȝare,
Squithe withoutun any mare,
Aȝaynus þe fynde for to fare,
That hedoes was of hiere;
67
For all þe weppuns þat he myȝte weld,
Þe bore brittunt his schild,
On brest he conne bere.
XV
Þere downe knelus he,And prayus till him þat was so fre,
“Send me þe vittore,
Þis Satanas me sekes.”
All wrote wex þat sqwyne,
Blu, and brayd vppe his bryne,
As kylne other kechine—
Þus rudely he rekes.
Þe kynge myȝte him noȝte see,
Butte lenyt him doune bi a tree,
So nyȝe discumford was hee,
For smelle oþer smekis.
And as he neghet bi a noke,
Þe king sturenly him stroke,
That bothe his brees con blake,
His maistry he mekes.
XVI
Thus his maistry mekes he,With dyntus that werun duȝte;
Were he heuyr so harde,
Þus bidus þat brothe.
Þe kinge with a nobull brande,
He mette the bore comande;
On his squrd till his hande,
He rennes full rathe.
He bare him inne atte þe throte;
He made no myrthe of þat mote;
He began to dotur and dote,
Os he hade keghet scathe.
68
To brittun him þe king was bowne,
And sundurt in þat sesun
His brode schildus bothe.
XVII
Þe king couthe of venery,Þolurt him full kyndely;
Þe hed of þat hardy,
He sette on a stake;
Sethun brittuns he þe best,
As venesun in forest;
Bothe þe ȝonge and lees
He hongus on a noke.
Þere downe knelys hee,
Þat loues her þat is free,
Sayd, “Þis socur þu hase send me,
For þi sune sake.”
If he were in a dale depe,
He hade no knyȝte him to kepe,
For werre slidus he on slepe,
No lengur myȝte he wake.
XVIII
The king hase fillut his avowe—Of Kay carpe we nowe;
How þat he come fro his prowe,
Ȝe schall here more.
Als he rode in þe nyȝte,
In þe forest he mette a knyȝte
Ledand a birde bryȝte;
Ho wepputte wundur sore.
69
And saue me my madunhede,
And giffe þe knyȝte, for his dede,
Bothe soro and care.”
XIX
Þus ho talkes him tilleQuille ho hade sayd all hur wille;
And Kay held him full stille,
And in þe holte houes;
He prekut oute prestely,
And aurehiet him radly,
And on þe knyȝte conne cry,
And pertely him reproues.
And sayd, “Recraiand knyȝte,
Here I profur þe to fiȝte;
Bechesun of þat biurde briȝte,
I bede þe my glouus!”
Þe toþer vnsquarut him with skill,
And sayd, “I am redy, at þi will,
Þat forward to fulfille,
In all þe me behouus.
XX
“Now quethun art þu?” quod Kay,“Or quethur is þu on way?
Þi riȝte name þu me say!
Quere wan þu þat wiȝte?”
Þe toþer vnsquarut him agayn,
“Mi riȝte name is, noȝte to layn,
Sir Menealfe of the Mountayn,
My godefadur hiȝte.
And this lady sum I þe telle,
I fochet hur atte Ledelle,
Þer hur frindus con hur selle
As foes in a fiȝte;
70
Þat muche blode conne I spille,
And all aȝaynus þayre awne wille;
Þere wan I this wiȝte.”
XXI
Quod Kay, “Þe batell I takeBechesun of þe birdus sake,
And I schalle wurche þe wrake.”
And sqwithely con squere.
Þenne þay rode togedur ryȝte,
As frekes redy to fiȝte—
Bechesun of þat birde bryȝte—
Gay in hor gere.
Menealfe was þe more myȝty,
He stroke Kay stifly,
Witte ȝe, sirs, witturly,
With a scharpe spere;
All toschildurt his schilde,
And aure his sadull gerut him to held,
And felle him flatte in þe filde,
And toke him vppe on werre.
XXII
Þus hase he wonun Kay on werre,And all tospild is his spere,
And mekill of othir gere,
Is holden to þe pees.
Þenne unsquarut Kay aȝayn,
And sayd, “Sir, atte Tarnewathelan
Bidus me Sir Gauan,
Is derwurthe on dese.
Wold ȝe thethur be bowne,
Or ȝe turnut to þe towne,
He wold pay my rawunsone,
Withowtyn delees.”
71
For a cowrce of þat knyȝte.”
Þette Menealfe, or þe mydnyȝte,
Him ruet all his rees.
XXIII
Þus þay turnut to þe torneWith þe thriuand thorne;
Kay callut on Gauan ȝorne,
Asshes, “Quo is there?”
He sayd, “I, Kay, þat þu knawes,
Þat owte of tyme bostus and blawus;
Butte þu me lese with þi lawes,
I lif neuyrmore.
For as I rode in þe nyȝte,
In þe forest I mette a knyȝte
Ledand a birde bryȝte;
Ho wepput wundur sore.
Þere togedur faȝte we,
Bechesun of þat lady free;
On werre þus hase he wonun me,
Gif þat me lothe ware!
XXIV
Þis knyȝte, þat is of renowun,Hase takyn me to presowun,
And þu mun pay my rawunsun,
Gawan, with þi leue.”
Þen vnsquarutte Gauan,
And sayd godely agayn,
“I wille, wundur fayne;
Quatt schall I geue?”
“Quen þu art armut in þi gere,
Take þi schild and þi spere,
And ride to him a course on werre,
Hit schall þe noȝte greue.”
72
To toþer knyȝt grauntus, “Ȝoe;”
He sayd, “Then togedur schull we goe,
Howsumeuyr hit cheuis.”
XXV
And these knyȝtus kithum hor crafte,And authir gripus a schafte,
Was als rude as a rafte,
So runnun þay togedur;
So somun conne þa[y] hie,
Þat nauthir scaput forbye;
Gif Menealfe was þe more myȝtie,
Ȝette dyntus gerut him to dedur.
He stroke him sadde and sore,
Squithe squonut he þore;
Þe blonke him aboute bore,
Wiste he neuyr quedur.
Quod Kay, “Þu hase þat þu hase soȝte,
Mi rauunsun is allredy boȝte,
Gif þu were ded I ne roȝte,
Forþi come I hedur.”
XXVI
Þus Kay scornus þe knyȝte,And Gauan rydus to him ryȝte;
In his sadul sette him on hiȝte,
Speke gif he may.
Of his helme con he draw,
Lete þe wynde on him blaw.
He speke with a vois law,
“Delyueryt hase þu Kay.
With þi laa hase made him leyce,
Butte him is lothe to be in pece,
And þu was aye curtase,
And prins of iche play;
73
Anoþer course wold I ride;
Þis þat houes by my side,
In wedde I wold hur lay!”
XXVII
Thenne vnsquarut Gauan,Sayd godely agayn,
“I am wundur fayn
For hur for to fiȝte.”
These knyȝtus kithum þay[re] gere,
And aythir gripus a spere,
Runnun togedur on werre,
Os hardy and wiȝte.
So somen þat þay ȝode,
Þat Gauan bare him fro his stede,
Þat bothe his brees con blede
On growunde qwen he liȝte.
Thenne Kay con on him calle,
And sayd, “Sir, þu hade a falle,
And þi wenche lost withalle,
Mi trauthe I þe pliȝte!”
XXVIII
Quod Kay, “Þi leue hase þu loste,For all þi brag or þi boste;
If þu haue oȝte on hur coste,
I telle hit for tente.”
Thenne speke Gauan to Kay,
“A mons happe is notte ay,
Is none so sekur of a say,
Butte he may harmes hente.”
Gauan rydus to him ryȝte,
And toke vppe þe toþer knyȝte,
Þat was dilfully dyȝte,
And stonet in þat stynte;
74
Þenne all þe harmes þat he hente þare.
He sayd, “And we allone ware,
Þis stryf schuld I stynte.”
XXIX
“Ȝe, hardely!” quod Kay,“Butte þu hast lost þi fayre may,
And þi liffe, I dar lay.”
Þus talkes he him tille.
And Gauan sayd, “God forbede,
For he is duȝti in dede.”
Prayes þe knyȝte gud spede,
To take hit to none ille
If Kay speke wurdes kene.
“Take þu þis damesell schene,
Lede hur to Gaynour þe quene,
Þis forward to fulfille;
And say þat Gawan hur knyȝte
Sende hur þis byurde briȝte,
And rawunsun þe anon riȝte,
Atte hur awne wille.”
XXX
Þerto grawuntus þe knyȝte,And truly his trauthe pliȝte,
Inne saueward þat byurde bryȝte
To Carlele to bringe.
And as þay houet and abode,
He squere on be squrd brode;
Be he his othe hade made,
Þenne waknut þe king.
Þenne þe day beganne to daw,
Þe kinge his bugull con blaw;
His knyȝtus couthe hitte welle knaw,
His was a sekur thinge.
75
Sqwith withowtun any mare,
To wete þe kingus welefare,
Withowtun letting.
XXXI
To þe forest þay take the way,Bothe Gawan and Kay,
Menealfe and þe fare may,
Comun to þe kinge.
Þe bore brittunt þay funde,
Was colurt of the kingus hunde;
If he were lord of þat londe,
He hade no horsing.
Downe þay take þat birde bryȝte,
Sette hur one, behinde þe knyȝte,
Hur horse for þe king was dyȝte,
Withoutun letting;
Gaue Kay þe venesun to lede,
And hiet hamward gode spede;
Bothe þe birde and þe brede,
To Carlele þay bringe.
XXXII
Now as þay rode atte þe way,Þe kynge himseluun con say,
Bothe to Gauan and to Kay,
“Quere wan ȝe þis wiȝte?”
Thenne Kay to þe king spake,
He sayd, “Sir, in þe forest as I con wake,
Atte þe anturis hoke,
Þer mette me this knyȝte;
Þer togedur faȝte we,
Bechesun of this lady fre;
On werre hase he thus wonun me,
With mayn and wythe myȝte;
76
For a course þat he rode,
And felle him in þe fild brode;
He wanne þis biurde bryȝte.
XXXIII
“He toke him þere to presunnere.”Þen loghe þat damesell dere,
And louet with mylde chere,
God and Sir Gawan.
Þenne sayd þe king opon hiȝte,
All sqwithe to þe knyȝte,
“Quat is þi rawunsun opon ryȝte,
Þe sothe þu me sayn?”
Þe tothir vnsquarut him with skille,
“I conne notte say þe þertille,
Hit is atte the quene wille,
Qwi schuld I layne?
Bothe my dethe and my lyfe,
Is inne þe wille of þi wife,
Quethur ho wulle stynte me of my strife,
Or putte me to payne.”
XXXIV
“Grete God,” quod þe king,“Gif Gawan gode endinge,
For he is sekur in alle kynne thinge
To cowuntur with a knyȝte;
Of all playus he berus þe prise,
Loos of þer ladies.
Menealfe, and þu be wise,
Hold þat þu beheȝte,
And I schall helpe þat I maye,”
The king himseluun con saye.
To Carlele þay take þe waye,
And inne þe courte is liȝte;
77
Before þe quene is he wente,
And sayd, “Medame, I am hedur sente
ffro Gawan, ȝour knyȝte.”
XXXV
He sayd, “Medame, Gawan ȝour knyȝte,On were hase wonun me tonyȝte;
Bechesun of this birde briȝte,
Mi pride conne he spille,
And gerut me squere squyftely
To bringe the this lady,
And my nowne body,
To do hit in þi wille;
And I haue done as he me bade.”
“Now,” quod þe quene, “and I am glade;
Sethun þu art in my wille stade,
To spare or to spille,
I giffe þe to my lord, the kinge,
For he hase mestur of suche a thinge,
Of knyȝtus in acowunturinge,
Þis forward to fullfille.”
XXXVI
“Now,” þe quene sayd, “God Almyȝte,Saue me Gawan, my knyȝte,
That þus for wemen con fiȝte;
Fro wothus him were!”
Gawan sayd, “Medame, as God me spede,
He is duȝti of dede,
A blithe burne on a stede,
And graythe in his gere.”
Þenne þay fochet furthe a boke,
All þayre laes for to loke,
Þe kinge sone his othe toke,
And squithely gerut him squere;
78
Þus dwellus he atte þe rowuntabull,
As prest knyȝte, and preuabull,
With schild and with spere.
XXXVII
Nowe gode frindus ar þay;Þen carpus Sir Kay,
To þe king con he say,
“Sire, a mervaell thinke me,
Of Bowdewyns avouyng,
Ȝustureuyn in þe eunyng,
Withowtun any lettyng,
Wele more thenne we thre.”
Quod þe king, “Sothe to sayn,
I kepe no lengur for to layn,
I wold wete wundur fayn,
How best myȝte be.”
Quod Kay, “And ȝe wold gif me leue,
And sithun take hit o no greue,
Now schuld I propurly preue,
As euyr myȝte I thee.”
XXXVIII
“Ȝisse,” quod þe king, “on þat couande,Þat o payn on life and on londe
Þat ȝe do him no wrunge,
Butte saue wele my knyȝte;
As men monly him mete,
And sithun forsette him þe strete.
Ȝe fynde him noȝte on his fete
Bewarre, for he is wyȝte;
For he is horsutte full wele,
And clene clad in stele;
Is none of ȝo but he mun fele,
Þat he may onlyȝte.
79
Þe king himseluun con say,
“Him is lefe, I dar lay,
To hald þat he heȝte.”
XXXIX
Þenne sex ar atte on assente,Hase armut hom, and furthe wente,
Brayd owte aure a bente,
Bawdewyn to mete;
With scharpe weppun and schene,
Gay gownus of grene
To hold þayre armur clene,
And were hitte fro þe wete.
Thre was sette on iche side
To werne him þe wayus wide;
Quere þe knyȝte schuld furthe ride,
Forsette hym þe strete.
With copus couert þay hom thenne,
Ryȝte as þay hade bene vncowthe men,
For þat þay wold noȝte be kennet,
Euyn downe to þayre fete.
XL
Now as thay houut, and þay hyild,Þay so a schene vndur schild
Þome prekand fast aure þe filde
On a fayre stede;
Wele armut and dyȝte,
As freke redy to fyȝte,
Toward Carlele ryȝte
He hies gode spede.
He see þer sixe in his way;
Þenne to þaymseluun con þay say,
“Now he is ferd, I dar lay,
And of his lyfe dredus.”
80
All squythe to þe knyȝte,
“Othir flee or fiȝte,
Þe tone behouus þe nede!”
XLI
Þenne þay kest þayre copus hom fro,Sir Bawdewyn se þat hit wasse so,
And sayd, “And ȝe were als mony mo,
Ȝe gerutte me notte to flee;
I haue my ways for to weynde,
For to speke with a frynde,
As ȝe ar herdmen hinde,
Ȝe marre notte me!”
Þenne þe sex sembult hom in fere,
And squere, “By him þat boȝte vs dere
Þu passus neuyr away here,
Butte gif þu dede be!”
“Ȝisse! hardely,” quod Kay,
“He may take anothir way,
And þer schall no mon do nere say,
Þat schall greue þe.”
XLII
“Gode the forȝilde,” quod the knyȝte,“For I am in my wais riȝte;
Ȝistureuyn I the king hiȝte,
To cumme to my mete;
I warne ȝo, frekes, be ȝe bold,
My ryȝte ways wille I holde.”
A spere in fewtre he foldes,
A gode and a grete.
Kay stode nexte him in his way;
He jopput him aure on his play,
Þat heuy horse on him lay;
He squonet in þat squete.
81
Þayre schene schildus con he riue,
And faure felle he belyue,
In his in þat hete!
XLIII
Hardely, withouten delay,Þe sex to hom hase takyn vppe Kay,
And þenne Sir Bawdewin con say,
“Will ȝe any more?”
Þe toþer vnsquarutte him þertille,
Sayd, “Þu may weynd quere þu wille,
For þu hase done vs noȝte butte skille,
Gif we be wowundut sore.”
He brayd aure to þe kinge,
Withowtun any letting;
He asshed, if he hade herd any tithing
In þayre holtus hore?
Þe knyȝte stedit and stode,
Sayd, “Sir, as I come thro ȝondur wode,
I herd ne se butte gode,
Quere I schuld furthe fare.”
XLIV
Thanne was þe kinge ameruaylet þareThat he wold telle him no more.
Als squithur þay ar ȝare,
To masse ar thay wente.
By þe masse wasse done,
Kay come home sone;
Told þe king before none,
“We ar all schente
Of Sir Baudewyn, ȝour knyȝte;
He is nobull in þe fiȝte,
Bold, hardy, and wiȝte
To bide on a bente;
82
Him is muche leuyr dee þore;
I may banne hur þat him bore,
Suche harmes haue I hente.”
XLV
Noue þe king sayd, “Fle he ne can,Ne werne his mete to no man;
Gife any biurne schuld him ban,
A meruail hit ware.”
Þenne þe king cald his mynstrelle,
And told him holly his wille—
Bede him layne atte hit were stille—
Þat he schuld furthe fare
To Baudewins of Bretan.
“I cummawunde þe or þu cum agayne,
ffaurty days, o payne,
Loke þat þu duelle þere;
And wete me preuely to say
If any mon go meteles away;
For þi wareson for ay,
Do þu me neuyrmore.”
XLVI
Then the mynstrell weyndus on his wayAls fast as he may;
Be none of þe thryd day
He funde þaym atte þe mete—
Þe lady and hur mene,
And gestus grete plente;
Butte porter none funde he,
To werne him þe ȝate.
Butte rayket into þe halle,
Emunge þe grete and þe smalle,
And loket aboute him aure alle;
He herd of no threte;
83
In bollus birlutte þay þu wyne,
And cocus in þe kechine,
Squytheli con squete.
XLVII
Þen þe ladi conne he loute,And þe biurdes all aboute;
Bothe withinne and withoute,
No faute he þer fonde;
Knyȝte, squyer, ȝoman, ne knaue,
Hom lacket noȝte þat þay schuld haue;
Þay nedut notte aftur hit to craue,
Hit come to hor honde.
Þenne he wente to þe dece,
Before þe pruddust in prece;
Þat lady was curtase,
And bede him stille stonde.
He sayd he was knoun and couthe,
And was comun fro bisouthe,
And ho had myrth of his mouthe
To here his tithand.
XLVIII
A sennyȝt duellut he þare;Þer was no spense for to spare,
Burdes þay were neuyr bare,
Butte euyr couurt clene.
Bothe knyȝte and squiere,
Mynstrelle and messyngere,
Pilgreme and palmere,
Was welcum, I wene.
Þer was plenty of fode,
Pore men hade þayre gode,
Mete and drinke or þay ȝode,
To wete wytheoutyn wene;
84
Butte come home, qwen him gode thoȝte,
And bothe he hase with him broȝte
The kinge and þe quene.
XLIX
Now þer come fro þe kechineRiall seruice and fine;
Ther was no wonting of wine,
To lasse ne to mare.
Þay hade atte þayre sopere,
Riche metes and dere;
Þe king with a blythe chere,
Bade hom sle care.
Þen sayd þe kinge opon hiȝte,
All sqwithe to þe knyȝte,
“Suche a seruice on a nyȝte
Se I neuyr are.”
Þenne Bawdewyn smylit, and on him loghe,
Sayd, “Sir, God hase a gud pluȝe,
He may send vs all enughe,
Qwy schuld we spare?”
L
“Now I cummawunde þe,” quod þe king,“Tomorne in þe mornyng,
Þat þu weynde on huntyng,
To wynne vs þe dere;
ffare furthe to þe fenne,
Take with þe howundus and men,
For þu conne hom best kenne,
Þu knoes best here.
ffor all day tomorne will I bide,
And no forthir will I ride,
Butte with þe lades of pride,
To make me gud chere.”
85
And att þe morun, atte days liȝte,
Þay blew hornys opon hiȝte,
And ferd furthe in fere.
LI
Þenne þe kynge cald his huntere,And sayd, “Felaw, come here.”
Þe toþer, with a blithe chere,
Knelet on his kne;
Dowun to þe kinge con he lowte.
“I commawunde þe to be all nyȝte oute;
Bawdewyn, þat is sturun and stowte,
With þe schall he be.
Erly in þe dawyng,
Loke þat ȝe come fro huntyng—
If ȝe no venesun bring,
ffull litill rechs me.”
Þe toþer vnsquarut him þertille,
Sayd, “Sir, þat is atte ȝour aune wille,
That hald I resun and skille,
As euyr myȝte I the.”
LII
And atte euyn þe king con him dyȝte,And callut to him a knyȝte,
And to þe chambur full riȝte,
He hiees gode waye,
Qwere þe lady of þe howse,
And maydyns full beuteowse,
Were curtase and curiowse,
ffor sothe in bed lay.
The kyng bede “Vndo!”
Þe lady asshes, “Querto?”
He sayd, “I am comun here, loe,
In derne for to play.”
86
And I my lord to my fere?
Tonyȝte more neȝe ȝe me nere,
In faythe, gif I may!”
LIII
“Vndo þe dur,” quod þe kinge,“For bi Him þat made all thinge,
Þu schall haue no harmynge,
Butte in þi none wille.”
Vppe rose a dameselle squete,
In þe kinge þat ho lete;
He sette him downe on hur beddus fete,
And talkes so hur tille.
Sayd, “Medame, my knyȝte
Mun lye with þe all nyȝte,
Til tomorne atte days liȝte,
Take hit on non ille;
For als euyr myȝte I the,
Þu schall harmeles be,
We do hit for a wedde fee,
The stryue for to stylle.”
LIV
Thenne þe kyng sayd to his knyȝte,“Sone þat þu were vndyȝte,
And in ȝondur bedde ryȝte,
Hie þe gud spede!”
Þe knyȝte did as he him bade,
And qwenne ho se him vnclad,
Þen þe lady wex drede.
Worlyke in wede,
He sayd, “Lye downe preuely hur by,
Butte neghe noȝte þu that lady,
For and þu do, þu shall dey
For þi derfe ded;
87
Ne onus turne þe to hur;
Þe toþer sayd, “Nay, sur;”
For him hade he drede.
LV
Thenne þe kyng asshet a chekkere,And cald a damesel dere,
Downe þay sette hom in fere,
Opon þe bed syde.
Torches was þer mony liȝte,
And laumpus brennyng full bryȝte,
Butte notte so hardy was þat knyȝte.
His hede onus to hide.
Butte fro þay began to play,
Quyle on þe morun þat hit was day,
Euyr he lokette as he lay,
Baudewynne to byde;
And erly in þe dawyng,
Come þay home from huntyng,
And hertis conne þay home bring,
And buckes of pride.
LVI
Þay toke þis venesun fyne,And hade hit to kechine;
Þe kinge sonde after Bawdewine,
And bede him cum see.
To þe chaumbur he takes þe way,
He fyndus þe king atte his play,
A knyȝte in his bedde lay,
With his lady.
Þenne sayd þe king opon hiȝte,
“Tonyȝte myssutte I my knyȝte,
And hithir folut I him ryȝte,
Here funden is hee;
88
ffor to do hom in þi wille;
And gif þu take hit now till ille,
No selcouthe thinge me.”
LVII
Þen þe king asshed, “Art þu wrothe?”“Nay, sir,” he sayd, “withouten othe,
Ne wille þe lady no lothe,
I telle ȝo as quy:
For hitte was atte hur awen wille,
Els thurt no mon comun hur tille;
And gif I take hitte þenne to ille,
Muche maugreue haue Y,
For mony wyntur togedur we haue bene,
And ȝette ho dyd me neuyr no tene,
And iche syn schall be sene,
And sette full sorely.”
Þe king sayd, “And I hade þoȝte
Quy þat þu wrathis þe noȝte,
And fyndus him in bed broȝte,
By þi laydy?”
LVIII
Quod Bawdewyn, “And ȝe will sitte,I schall do ȝo wele to witte;”
“Ȝisse,” quod þe king, “I þe hete,
And þu will noȝte layne.”
“Hit befelle in ȝour fadur tyme,
Þat was þe kyng of Costantyne,
Puruayed a grete oste and a fyne,
And wente into Spayne.
We werrut on a Sawdan,
And all his londus we wan,
And himseluun, or we blan.
Þen were we full fayn;
89
He gafe me to my leding
Lordus atte my bidding,
Was buxum and bayne.
LIX
“He gafe me a castell to gete,With all þe lordschippus grete;
I hade men atte my mete,
Fyue hundryth and mo,
And no wemen butte thre,
Þat owre seruandis schild be.
One was bryȝtur of ble
Þen þer othir toe;
Toe were atte one assente,
Þe thrid felow haue þay hente;
Vnto a well ar þay wente,
And says hur allso,
‘Sithin all þe loce in þe lise,
Þu schall tyne þine aprise.’
And wurchun as þe vnwise,
And tite conne hur sloe.
LX
“And for þo werkes were we wo,Gart threte þo othir for to slo;
Þenne sayd the tone of þo,
‘Lette vs haue oure life,
And we schall atte ȝour bidding be
As mycull as we all thre;
Is none of ȝaw in preuete
Schall haue wontyng of wyfe.’
Þay held vs wele þat þay heȝte,
And diȝte vs on þe day liȝte,
And þayre body vche nyȝte,
Withoutun any stryue.
90
Þat þe toþer hade enuy;
Hur throte in sundur preuely,
Ho cutte hitte with a knyfe.
LXI
“Muche besenes hade we,How þat best myȝte be;
Þay asshed cowuncell atte me,
To do hur to dede.
And I vnsquarut, and sayd, ‘Nay,
Loke furst qwatt hurseluun will say,
Queþer ho may serue vs all to pay;
Þat is a bettur rede.’
Þer ho hette vs in þe halle,
To do alle þat a woman schild fall,
Wele for to serue vs all,
Þat stode in þat stede;
Ho held vs wele þat ho heȝte,
And diȝte vs on þe day liȝte,
And hur body iche nyȝte,
Intill oure bed beed.
LXII
“And bi this tale I vndurstode,Wemen þat is of mylde mode,
And syne giffes hom to gode,
Mecull may ho mende;
And þo þat giffus hom to þe ille,
And sithin þayre folis will fullfill,
I telle ȝo wele, be propur skille,
No luffe will inne hom lenge.
With gode wille grathely hom gete,
Meke and mylde atte her mete,
Thryuandly withoutun threte,
And joy atte iche ende;
91
For no siȝte þat I see,
Ne no biurdes briȝte of ble;
Iche ertheli thinke hase ende.”
LXIII
Þe king sayd, “Þu says wele.“Sir,” he sayd, “as haue I sele,
I will þu wote hit iche dele,
Þerfore come Y.
Þi lady gret me to squere squyftele,
Or I myȝte gete entre,
Þat ho schuld harmeles be,
And all hur cumpany.
Þen gerut I my knyȝte
To go in bed with þe biurde bryȝte,
On þe fur syde of þe liȝte,
And lay hur dowun by;
I sette me doune hom besyde,
Here þe for to abide;
He neȝhit neuyr no naked syde
Of þi lady.
LXIV
“fforthi of jelusnes be þu bold,Thine avow may þu hold;
Butte of þo othir thinges þat þu me told,
I wold wete more;
Quy u dredus notte þi dede,
Ne non þat bitus on þi brede,
As [eu]yr brok I my hede,
Þi ȝatis ar euyr ȝare.”
Quod Bawdewyn, “I schall ȝo telle:
Atte þe same castell,
Quere þis antur befelle,
Besegitte we ware;
92
And toke presonerus stoute,
Þe tone of owre foloys had doute,
And durst notte furthe fare.
LXV
“Þe caytef crope into a tunneÞat was sette þer owte in þe sunne;
And þere come fliand a gunne,
And lemet as þe leuyn,
Lyȝte opon hitte atte þe last,
That was fastnut so fast;
All in sundur hit brast,
In six or in seuyn.
And there hit sluȝe him als—
And his hert was so fals—
Sone þe hed fro þe hals,
Hit lyputt full euyn.
And we come fro þe feȝting,
Sowunde withoutun hurting,
And þen we louyd þe king
Þat heghehest was in heuyn.
LXVI
“Þen owre feloys con say,Schall nomon dee or his day,
Butte he cast himselfe away,
Throȝhe wontyng of witte;
And þere myne avow made I,
So dyd all þat cumpany,
For dede neuyr to be drery,
Welcum is hit—
Hit is a kyndely thing.”
“Þu says sothe,” quod þe king,
“Butte of þi thryd avowyng,
Telle me quyche is hit,
93
To no leuand barne?”
“Ther is no man that may hit tharne;
Lord, ȝe schall wele wete.
LXVII
“For þe sege aboute vs lay stille,We hade notte all atte oure wille;
Mete and drinke vs to fille
Vs wontutte þe fode.
So come a messyngere,
Bade, ‘Ȝild vppe all þat is here,’
And speke with a sturun schere.
‘I nyll, by þe rode!’
I gerutte him bide to none,
Callud þe stuard sone,
Told him all as he schuld done,
As counsell is gud;
Gerutte trumpe on þe walle,
And couerd burdes in þe hall;
And I myself emunge hom all,
As a king stode.
LXVIII
“I gerut hom wasshe, to mete wente;Aftur þe stuard þen I sente,
I bede þat he schuld take entente
That all schuld well fare.
Bede bringe bred plente,
And wine in bollus of tre,
Þat no wontyng schuld be,
To lasse ne to mare.
We hade no mete, butte for one day;
Hit come in a nobull aray.
Þe messyngere lokit ay,
And se hom sle care;
94
We gerutte him drinke atte þe ȝate,
And gafe him giftus grete,
And furthe con he fare.
LXIX
“But quen þe messyngere was gone,Þese officers ichone
To me made þay grete mone,
And drerely con say;
Sayd, ‘In this howse is no bred,
No quyte wine nyf red;
Ȝo behoues ȝild vppe þis stid,
And for oure lyuys pray.’
Ȝette God helpus ay his man;
Þe messyngere come agayn þan,
Withoute to þe cheuytan,
And sone conne he say,
‘Þoȝhe ȝe sege þis seuyn ȝere,
Castell gete ȝe none here,
ffor þay make als mirry chere,
Als hit were ȝole day!’
LXX
“Þen þe messyngere con say,‘I rede ȝo, hie ȝo heþinne away,
For in ȝour oste is no play,
Butte hongur and thurst.’
Þenne þe king con his knyȝtis calle,
Sethinne to cowunsell wente þay all;
‘Sythinne no bettur may befall,
This hald I þe best.’
Euyn atte þe mydnyȝte,
Hor lordis sembelet to a syȝte,
Þat were hardy and wiȝte;
Þay remuyt of hor rest.
95
And þere mete hor sege blak brake;
And gerut hom to giffe vs þe bake,
To preke þay were full preste.
LXXI
“And þen we lokit were þay lay,And see oure enmeys away,
And þen oure felawis con say,
Þe lasse and þe mare,
He þat gode may gete,
And wernys men of his mete,
Gud Gode, þat is grete,
Gif him sory care!
ffor the mete of þe messyngere,
Hit mendutte all oure chere.”
Þen sayd þe king, þat þay myȝte here,
And sqwythely con squere,
“In þe conne we fynde no fabull,
Thine avowes arne profetabull.”
And þus recordus þe rowndetabull,
Þe lasse and þe more.
LXXII
Thenne þe kinge and his knyȝtis all,Þay madun myrthe in þat halle,
And þen þe lady conne þay calle,
The fayrist to fold;
Sayde, “Bawdewyn, and þu be wise
Take þu þis lady of price
For muche loue in hur lyce;
To þinne hert hold.
Ho is a biurde full bryȝte,
And þerto semely to þy siȝte,
And þu hase holdinne all þat þu hiȝte
As a kniȝte schulde!”
96
He graunt vs alle his blessynge
And gife vs all gode endinge,
That made vs on þe mulde!
| Sir Amadace and The Avowing of Arthur | |